


Reversible Roles

by nagoyadelay



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Feelings, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Non-Sexual Roleplay, Role Reversal, Uncooperative Makkachin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 09:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13831209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagoyadelay/pseuds/nagoyadelay
Summary: Yuuri and Victor recreate Victor’s first day in Hasetsu in their St. Petersburg apartment – with Yuuri as the coach and Victor as the student.Results are mixed.





	Reversible Roles

**Author's Note:**

> ty to [seventhstar](http://archiveofourown.org/users/seventhstar) for the beta!

“Do you ever think about how our lives would be if you were to coach me instead of the other way around?” Victor asks one morning over breakfast.

Yuuri rubs the sleep from his eyes. “Huh? What are you talking about?” As much as Yuuri loves Victor, being around someone who is such a morning person is sometimes very, very difficult. Yuuri usually needs at least an hour before he is fully awake.

“What if you were the five-time GPF Champion, Olympic Gold Medalist, Dior Homme model, definitely-not-balding superstar who came to coach me - the beautiful skater who just needs a little bit of assistance and love to reach my greatest success?”

“If I’d come to St. Petersburg to coach you,” - Yuuri pauses to chew and swallow a bite of egg whites - “I couldn’t have greeted you with my dick out. The Russian police would have arrested me.”

Victor smacks his hand on the table, startling Yuuri into alertness. “That’s it!”

“What’s it?”

“We’ll recreate my first day in Hasetsu here in the apartment.”

“But we don’t have an onsen -“

Victor touches a finger to Yuuri’s lips. “We’ll use our imaginations.”

* * *

Yuuri shivers a bit as he sits in the bathtub, waiting. “Victor, the water’s getting cold.”

In the other room, he hears Victor whistle for Makkachin. “Makka! Come knock me over! I’ve been shoveling a lot of heavy snow and doing some very sexy manual labor!”

“You didn’t even witness that part!” Yuuri-as-Coach settles himself comfortably into the bath. He relaxes and closes his eyes. Clearly, Victor is hellbent on recreating that entire day, start to finish, more or less. He hears clunky footsteps race down the hall before Victor yanks open the bathroom door. Victor’s wearing a pair of thick glasses, and he’s put a little bit of cream blush on his cheeks to make it look like he’s flushed from hours of snow shoveling, in addition to a thick coat and heavy scarf. He looks _adorable_ , and Yuuri gets flustered by how handsome Victor is and nearly forgets what he’s supposed to do next.

“Victor!” Yuuri says to Victor. He stands up - not as gracefully as Victor did in his memory - and extends his hand. “Starting today, I’ll be your coach.”

Victor gives an exaggerated blush. “WHAT?” Victor turns and stage-whispers to Makkachin. “He’s so handsome!" And he wants to coach me! But why is he here? Is it because of the video? Oh my gosh, I’m so nervous!”

Yuuri smiles, “Oh, in this universe the video where I skate your routine still exists?  Well, except you're skating my routine.”

“Unless you want it to be a different kind of video.” Victor winks.

Yuuri thinks about That Video - the one Vitya sent him when Yuuri was alone in Hasetsu, packing up his things - and blushes. “The skating video is fine."

“Now, this next part will be a bit difficult, given that we’re missing a few family members.”

“It would be weird to involve them in this, don’t you think?” He tries to picture - well, he hasn’t met Victor’s mother, so instead, he tries to imagine Yakov cooking in their kitchen. It’s hilarious.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Oh, no reason.”

“Okay.” Victor looks unconvinced. “For this next part, we can improvise. I’ll just have to talk a lot more.”

“No great effort there.”

Victor slingshots a bath towel at Yuuri’s chest.

* * *

Yuuri positions himself on the floor in front of the coffee table - he’d tried to be pretend-asleep in front of the kitchen table, but the cold tile was very uncomfortable, and Victor accidentally kicked him in the shoulder while grabbing a pot out of one of the lower cabinets. He’s wearing Victor’s softest, most luxurious bathrobe, swiped from a Park Hyatt at some point during his early competitive career, and has it loosely belted as to show more of his chest. He tries to call Makkachin over to lay next to him, but Makka is much more interested in eating her dinner than laying in front of the furniture next to an awkwardly splayed-out Yuuri. As a consolation, he decides to position Victor’s Makkachin tissue box underneath his left arm. Yuuri tousles his hair a bit to attempt to give it that slept-in, effortless beauty that he remembered Victor’s hair having that first night in Hasetsu.

The stove beeps, and Victor - still wearing oversized glasses, but out of his coat and scarf - emerges from the kitchen. He kneels next to Yuuri’s pretend-sleeping form. “I can’t believe Yuuri Katsuki is here! In my apartment! To coach me!” Victor gasps. “And he’s wearing my robe.”

Yuuri opens his eyes just barely, squinting through his eyelashes to see Victor stand up, take the glasses off, and put his hand on his hip. “I hear he’s taking the season off, is that right?” he says in an absurdly high-pitched voice, and Yuuri has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at Victor’s horrible Minako impression. Or would he be Lilia in this scenario, since they’re in Russia?

Victor puts the glasses back on and kneels back to Yuuri. “Yes, but not because he’s injured. And definitely not because he’s old. He’s still one of the best skaters on earth, if not the very best, and he is a very, very young and sprightly twenty-eight, and he’s absolutely not balding.”

“Stop projecting,” Yuuri whispers.

“Twenty-four,” Victor self-corrects. He stands back up, takes the glasses back off. “They’re saying that Yuuri Katsuki, the handsome and talented genius-“

Yuuri blushes; even now, Victor’s compliments still affect him deeply.

“- was so inspired by your video that he flew all the way to Russia to coach you! And he was smart and took a connecting flight through Seoul on Korean Air instead of depending on Aeroflot to get him here in a timely fashion. He chose you, Victor!”

Victor puts the glasses back on and kneels yet again. “What? Me?????”

Yuuri slowly pulls himself into a seated position, preening a bit as he tilts his head back. Trying to put himself in Victor’s shoes, he wants Victor to want him. “Wow, I’m so hungry,” he says. He exaggeratedly shifts his shoulder back so that half the robe falls, exposing a swath of bare skin from his neck to his tailbone. The sleeve is barely hanging on to his left wrist.

Victor frowns, clearly flustered. “I did not do that.”

“Yes, you did.” Yuuri remembered it clearly; as if he hadn’t been terrified enough by Victor’s presence, the flirtatious accidental-on-purpose shoulder reveal had fucking rattled his brain. He’d almost said his favorite food was white meat.

Victor blushes. “Yuuri, if you don’t pull that robe back up at least a little bit we’re not going to make it to the part where we eat dinner.”

“Oh?” Yuuri says, fluttering his eyelashes. “I’d love to know what your favorite food is, Victor. We can eat that.”

* * *

One of the most significant shocks of Yuuri’s life had been finding out that Victor’s favorite food was not, in fact, soup, as Victor had dutifully answered consistently every time he'd been asked since he was seventeen. “The federation made me say that,” he’d said. “It was a safe answer, very generalized, and it translates across the world.” Yuuri, who had spent years learning how to make the perfect solyanka in the unlikely event that he’d be able to cook it for Victor someday, had not been amused. (“Perhaps soup is my favorite food now,” Victor had said upon tasting it.)

And so Yuuri now found himself in front of a gigantic plate of Victor’s true favorite food, deep fried pelmeni, the likes of which he couldn’t possibly eat on a regular basis without having to be rolled down the street like an abandoned tire. Victor looks at Yuuri expectantly as Yuuri takes a bite. Yuuri theatrically chews and swallows. “ _Oyshi!_ ”, he finally exclaims.

“Oh, I’m so glad you like it!” Victor says with a heart-shaped smile. “I was only allowed to eat it if I won competitions.”

Yuuri tilts his head. “Oh, have you been winning a lot of competitions lately?”

“Well, no,” Victor answers truthfully.

Yuuri pauses. “Time out.”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t know what to do next. I can’t make fun of you for being a little overweight. You’ve always had the perfect body.”

“Not perfect,” Victor says. “One of my thumbs is a little bit longer than the other. Why do you think I wore gloves every day before we got engaged?”

“Vitya, your thumbs look exactly the same.”

“They do not - nevermind.” Victor straightens up and pulls himself back into character. “Coach Yuuri, perhaps now I can show you to your room?”

* * *

Yuuri is surprised when Victor opens the walk-in hall closet. “Your room, Coach Yuuri.”

“Wait, Victor… why the hall closet?” Yuuri whispers.

“Because it’s full of your unpacked boxes,” Victor whispers back.

“We’ve been busy. And I hate unpacking. And cardboard has such an unpleasant smell after it’s been sitting for a while -“

“Get back into character.”

“Oh!” Yuuri exclaims, probably louder than he needs to. “What a classic, tiny room! I didn’t realize apartments in St. Petersburg had rooms this small! Is there a sofa?”

“No. I’m sorry that this is all we have,” Victor says. “Is it all right?”

“Yes. And don’t worry about the coaching fees. You can pay me later, once you’re successful beyond your wildest dreams.”

“Oh, thank you.”

Yuuri leans in close to Victor, shrugging more of the robe off of his shoulder before reaching up to touch Victor’s face. “Victor... won’t you tell me more about yourself? If there’s anyone you’re interested in dating, for instance. Or things that you enjoy doing in St. Petersburg.”

“You and you,” Victor answers automatically.

Yuuri removes his hand from Victor’s face. “Now who can’t stay in character?”

“It’s difficult when you’re so close to me. All I can think about is how much I want to kiss you.”

“Let’s move on to the last part, then,” Yuuri says. “Once we’re finished, you can kiss me all you’d like."

* * *

"Victor!” Yuuri knocks on their bedroom door. “Let’s sleep together! There’s so much I need to learn about you!”

Victor opens the door. “Okay.”

“No, Victor, you’re supposed to refuse. Because it takes time for you to get close to me. Remember?”

“Of course I remember,” Victor says. “I just can’t refuse. I don’t want to do this part.” He thinks back to sleeping in the banquet room on that first night, tears dampening the corners of his eyes.

Yuuri takes Victor’s hand. “You know that I wasn’t ready for all of - you,” Yuuri says. “It was a lot. You were a lot. But I was so happy to have you appear in my life. Even if I wasn’t able to say it.”

“I know that now.” Victor takes a deep breath and exhales before continuing. “And we ended up together eventually. So I suppose that everything went the way it was supposed to go.”

Yuuri kisses Victor’s forehead. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Well, good.” Victor’s face brightens. “Now that we’re in the bedroom, perhaps we could try a different type of roleplay?”

“Okay,” Yuuri agrees. “How about one where I’m Yuuri and you’re Victor and I ravish you over and over?”

“Yes, please,” Victor says, closing the bedroom door.


End file.
